Galactic Grunt
AGE
twenty-three |
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GENDER
cisfemale |
PERSONAL COMPUTER
PERSONAL COMPUTER
IS OFFLINE
arrow IS OFFLINE
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Post by NORA ALBERN on Sept 8, 2016 0:34:34 GMT
◣◆◢  | it's been days, weeks, hours, something like that. she isn't sure. days meld together. insomnia keeps her on her toes, has her cherry eyes flickering towards shadows. black spots crawl over white walls; she can't stay in one place for too long. because they're coming. it eats up at her, chews her from the inside out. she wants to stick her fingers under her rib cage, worm her way through tissue and muscle and grasp whatever is constricting its way around her heart. because it's forcing her blood to pound, breaths to come in short, rasped whispers when night rolls around.
she sleeps with the lights on. her ghost pokemon have started to prefer their pokeballs to her company. but kidd shares her worry, forces himself to sleep at least a couple of hours each night so that he can be her eyes, her mind, as she skirts through the waking world like a ghost.
she's here now, pallid skin looking even more garish under the bar's blue-tinted lights. there's still something alluring about her tired smile and she manages to nick a free drink from one of the bar's patrons before she retreats to a quieter table sequestered in the corner of the building. her fingernail scratches against the rough wood of her table, gaze everywhere at once. she'd received a message earlier, a text on her phone from someone.
galactic, she's told herself. it has to be galactic. she presses fingertips to her choker, smooths her thumb over her collarbone. and she sits and she watches and she waits.
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LAIKA OF GAGNAM STYLE |
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Galactic Admin
AGE
twenty-four |
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GENDER
male |
PERSONAL COMPUTER
PERSONAL COMPUTER
IS OFFLINE
kai'k IS OFFLINE
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Post by adrien arkwright on Oct 28, 2016 17:10:17 GMT
Nora Albern. Aged twenty-three. Galactic grunt. Oh, and a certain ex-Galactic's subordinate. A wry smile surfaced on the male's lips as he'd flip through her file a last time before setting out for the rendezvous point in Jubilife. A text message was all he had sent the woman, a certain location and offer he was certain she couldn't refuse. With the coup nearing, every threat in the way had to be negated. And these threats included every capable member of Galactic that refused to side with the coup. Since her former supervisor's departure from the organization, Nora's position in the team was akin to the pokemon she trained. Shady.
The bell would sound as the door opened and in walked the cobalt-haired male. His sole gold eye would scan the bar, only to lock onto the isolated woman seated at the table on the farther end of the establishment. 'Fits the description,' Adrien would muse to himself as he'd approach the table directly. "Miss Albern?" Spoken casually as the man halted by her table. It wasn't a question or affirmation, but rather to garner her attention towards him. Taking a seat across the woman, he'd focus on her visage. Quite attractive he could imagine had she not seemed so sickly. A hand would extend out to shake hers as he'd smile softly, his voice modulated as to only enable his words to reach her ears and no one elses.
"Adrien Arkwright. Galactic Admin, "
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Galactic Grunt
AGE
twenty-three |
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GENDER
cisfemale |
PERSONAL COMPUTER
PERSONAL COMPUTER
IS OFFLINE
arrow IS OFFLINE
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Post by NORA ALBERN on Oct 29, 2016 19:40:49 GMT
◣◆◢ | she's still lost, doesn't know her place in the organization, doesn't know what she's here for or who's on her side, but that doesn't mean she's not stupid. she's listened to rumors, heard whispers, walked through hallways that echo with names. she doesn't know faces so she can't place him before he speaks, but he holds his head high, shoulders square. i get what i want. he's strength, corruption, power. and her suspicions aren't tested for long before he introduces himself. she tilts her head, holds out her gloved hand to give his a shake. "i can't say that, of all faces to greet me tonight, i would have the pleasantry of meeting yours."
her heartbeat is stuttering as fear sets in. rebuttals press against the back of her teeth, makes her mouth ache, but he hasn't accused her of anything yet. she did nothing. she did nothing. they'd sent summers to greet her, to take her under his wing. that's what she'd thought. but she doesn't know what she thinks anymore. things are too muddled, too much. she turns towards him now that he's sitting and meets his gaze without flinching.
"so," she says, draws her hands back as she leans against the back of her chair. she brushes a lock of hair from her eyes. "to what do i owe the pleasure of meeting you?" her drink from earlier sits in front of her, near empty, and she almost wishes she hadn't drawn the buzz to herself. it's barely noticeable, barely there, but combined with her sleepless nights, her mind isn't as sharp as it should be. she runs her tongue along her teeth, an anxious movement, but upholds her earnest look with ease.
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LAIKA OF GAGNAM STYLE |
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